10 Great Places to Eat and Drink in Tokyo

New Yorkers love to talk about how we live in the greatest restaurant city in the world, but going to Japan will change your whole perspective in a Tokyo second. I won’t pretend that visiting for 10 days—as I did just a few weeks ago—makes me anything more than a tourist who ate a bunch of incredible meals, and I’m not going to try to tell you how the food world works in Tokyo, because like everything else there, it is too vast and inscrutable to even begin to wrap your head around. But thanks to some excellent guidance from locals (most notably my girlfriend, Sarah, and her incredibly generous family), I did get to dip my feet into its culinary offerings, both humble (ramen!) and high-end (a Franco-Japanese chef’s table serving foie gras with uni), and I came away with a few insights into what makes Tokyo tick as a gastronomic powerhouse.

First of all, the sheer size (more than 13 million people) and density of the city means that the amount of places to eat, and the level of specialization within those offerings, is mind-boggling. Even in New York, it doesn’t take that much effort to keep tabs on the hot spots du jour, especially since they tend to congregate around a limited number of neighborhoods and their buzz is intensely media driven. In Japan, hype for a new restaurant doesn’t work in the same way. There are fads, certainly, but they tend to center around new concepts like pancakes or brunch, for example, and not so much chefs and restaurateurs. Moreover, those fads that do take hold move very quickly—while people get hyped up for seasonal items like Peppermint Mochas and McRibs here, chains such as Starbucks run a limited-edition menu item every couple weeks or so in Japan.

Another distinguishing feature is a general standard of quality across the board. No doubt you can get crappy, sloppily produced grub at innumerable places in Tokyo. But it’s telling that even convenience stores like 7-11 and Lawson’s have pretty tasty prepared foods (no heat lamp-shriveled taquitos). This expectation of quality, combined with the bounty of excellent ingredients in the country, means that there is lower tolerance for throwaway food culture. People care about what they eat not because that is the cool thing to do now, but because that is just the way things are. I found that everyone I spoke with was incredibly conversant in food, with a strong understanding of regionalism and history, even though they wouldn’t self-identify as food obsessives (much less “foodies”).

But I know you’re less concerned with my ramblings, and more interested in where to actually eat. Navigating the options can be overwhelming, so it’s important to have some sort of game plan when you visit. These 10 spots were all recommended by Tokyo residents, and while you can see that I became a little bit ramen-obsessed, they offer a solid cross-section of dining options in the city, particularly the popular Harajuku/Shibuya/Omotesando area.

Kohmen Ramen

Given the overwhelming number of options in every category of ramen you've heard of—tonkotsu, shio, miso, shoyu—as well as some you might be less familiar with (there are far more tseukemen, or "dipping ramen," spots than in New York), I tried to focus my limited noodle-slurping time on one style. Call me an obvious American, but was it even a question? I opted for tonkotsu, that porky and cloudy broth made by cooking pig bones and fat (among other things) over high heat for hours.
My first stop didn't deliver the best bowl of the entire trip, but it was perfect a cure for my jet lag-induced hunger, as it was by far the richest tonkotsu I've encountered—seriously, the stuff was almost more gravy than soup (in a good way), with visible bits of lip-smacking collagen floating on the surface. The roasted pork here was also memorably tender and fatty. My lunch partner got a Dan Dan-like chili soup, which the waiter had told us, in Japanese, wasn't popular among foreigners. Obviously, that made me want to try it even more. It was entirely different from anything I've had before—more of a curried broth with greens and thick noodles, plus a charred garlic sauce that infused the whole bowl with a smoky, earthy flavor. As a foreigner, I highly recommend it!
kohmen.com

Sushi Tairyoko

Sure, you could try to get a reservation at Jiro (better get on that, like, yesterday), and I've no doubt you would have a great meal. But I definitely got some eye rolls when I mentioned it to Tokyoites—one who'd actually been to the famed sushi counter on many occasions and said there are many better options in the city, and others who wondered whether the hype brought on by the film might be a bit overblown. At any rate, what I found interesting about sushi in Japan was how it fit into the dining scene on the whole. I'd heard that more well-to-do Tokyo families might go out to a sushi dinner only a few times a year, and while there's some truth to that generality, it refers really to a very high-end sushi experience. The rise of conveyor-belt sushi over the past couple decades has allowed a more casual sushi culture to emerge alongside the work of the true masters, so don't be surprised to see rolls in plastic boxes at the convenience store.
At any rate, this restaurant in Harajuku, located on the trendy Cat Street, offers a middle-ground between the two extremes—a casual restaurant not unlike a Japanese restaurant you'd see in the States, but with a standard of fish closer to what you'd experience only at our most expensive sushi counters. The ebi (shrimp) was by far the best I've ever tasted, with remarkably sweet flesh. The tuna—both fatty and red—also blew me away. If you're hanging out around Harajuku or Shibuya—which you probably will be—this spot is a great option for getting a taste of Japanese sushi without committing to one of the more refined temples of raw fish.
Map

Omotesando Koffee

When you've got a week in Japan and a 12-hour time difference to cope with, coffee is crucial. Of course, there are Starbucks and other international chains everywhere, but Japan has its own coffee culture that offers a far more interesting way to get your caffeine fix. The serene Omotesando Koffee, tucked away on a quiet side street near the upscale Omotesando Hills mall, is a great place to experience it. It's located inside a traditional wooden house, with a small garden leading to a minimalist espresso bar where a man in a lab coat pulls strong, bitter shots and whips up very good cappuccinos and lattes. The space is often used for art installations, and we were lucky enough to see a very cool display from a local bonsai tree specialist. While you're there, grab one of the delicious egg custards, baked into a bite-size square and spiked with vanilla.
ooo.koffee.com

Shinyokohama Ramen Museum

If you're a ramen-obsessive, you kind of have to hit this place up, even though it's out in Yokohama, about an hour from central Tokyo by train. The term museum is a little misleading—it's really more like the world's greatest food court, with outposts of nine famous ramen-ya from around the country, all representing different regional styles. The theme-park staging is meant to evoke Tokyo in 1958, which is the year instant ramen was invented. In the U.S., this type of concept would probably result in phoned-in versions of venerable institutions, hastily set up as a publicity move (imagine a food hall with shitty versions of Nathan's Hot Dogs from NYC, Portillo's from Chicago, Lafayette Coney from Detroit, and so on). But Japanese restaurants don't play like that, so what you get are legit operations all congregated in one convenient (and admittedly claustrophobic) space.
Continuing the hunt for tonkotsu, I opted to wait in line for a place called Toride, which is actually based in Tokyo and was started by a former lieutenant of the famed Ippudo empire. Maybe the theatricality of the experience played into my ebullience a bit, but I'd struggle to name a better bowl of ramen I've eaten ever in my life. Three main reasons: The broth hit the perfect balance of richness, complexity, and mouthfeel (on the thinner side) to keep you interested all the way through to the final slurp. The ultra-thin noodles could be cooked to seven levels of firmness (one of which basically involved dropping uncooked noodles into the steaming soup); noodles so perfectly al dente, particularly gossamer ones like these, are something you don't see at amateur hour. And finally, the care taken with each of the toppings really made a difference—incredibly flavorful spring onions (grown specially for this particular ramen), plus firm and crunchy mushrooms that had clearly been added at the last moment rather than left to get soggy. The pro move seemed to be ordering the kaedama, which is an extra serving of noodles used to soak up the remains of the soup. I've been dreaming about this ramen ever since.
(Tip: If you go on the museum website, you can get pretty accurate wait times for each of the ramen restaurants inside.)
raumen.co.jp

Goodbeer Faucets and The Baird Harajuku Taproom

Yes, there's a craft-beer culture brewing in Japan, and if you love beer, it's always exciting to see an up-and-coming scene beginning to find its footing. In New York, everyone knows Hitachino, but beer nerds may have also come across Baird Brewing, which is distributed by Shelton Bros. Still, no better place to drink it than on its home turf. The Numazu-based brewery runs a cool izakaya on a side street in Harajuku where you can sample all of its brews—many of which have a distinctive English backbone to them—alongside serviceable Japanese pub grub. The hoppier options are the most successful, especially the the West Coast-style Rising Sun Pale Ale and Teikoku IPA, both of which are nicely balanced. When you visit, take advantage of the opportunity to get a sampler of various brews.
A good place to explore the broader spectrum of homegrown ales is Goodbeer Faucets (amazing name, by the way), a slick second-story barroom in Shibuya sporting a gleaming state-of-the-art tap system with 40 drafts. About a quarter of the list was devoted to Japanese craft beers I'd never heard of, from the likes of Nide Beer (brewed by Baird, as it turns out) and Shigakogen, and the option of half-pint pours made it easier to taste a bunch during one sitting. I tried a few forgettable pale ales and IPAs, but one standout was Nide Beer's GBF Yuzu Dream, brewed in Kanagawa, which went down like a yuzu Fanta, tart and refreshing. The rest of the beer list is largely American (Coney Island, Ballast Point, Caldera, etc.), with some goodies from Mikkeler and BrewDog in the mix as well.
Goodbeer Faucets:goodbeerfaucets.jpBaird Harajuku Taproom:bairdbeer.com

Food hall at Isetan (Shinjuku)

If you're the type who likes to stroll around the Harrod's Food Hall in London or Ferry Plaza in San Francisco, you've got to visit the food floor of this high-end Japanese department store, which pretty much makes Eataly look like the corner bodega. The selection is staggering—the fish section has about 50 different types of tuna alone, and the rice packages come emblazoned with photos of the farmer that grew the rice—you can even have the grains polished on site to achieve various flavors and textures! If you're looking for gifts, or you just want to mainline some Japanese food culture in a short amount of time, the prepared foods section is the place go. There, you'll find kiosks run by famous Japanese restaurants—from sushi and yakitori spots to old-fashioned confectionary shops—that'll give you a taste of some places that might be too expensive, or too far afield, to visit in person.
isetan.co.jp

Rokurinsha Tokyo

David Chang has named this place as one of his favorite spots in Tokyo, so for Momofuku acolytes, there's that. Clearly he's not alone, as the place had a long and extremely regimented line winding through the bowels of Tokyo Station, in an area dubbed Ramen Street (!) due to all of the high-profile ramen-ya that you can find congregated there. The house speciality is tsukemen, or dipping ramen, which means you get a bowl of room-temperature broth and another of super-thick, hot noodles.
The idea of tsukemen never seemed as exciting to me as a bowl of steaming soup, and my understanding is that the style was somewhat sneered upon by ramen purists until it took off and became it's own craze more recently. But if you want to be convinced of its charms, Rokurinsha is a fine place to start. The broth is tonkotsu on steroid, with a very prominent dose of dried mackerel, and so the fat noodles are necessary, both to soak up the soup and to balance its intense saltiness. The toppings here are delicious too—tender chashu,menma bamboo shoots, seaweed, and powdered fish. It's Japan, so let's just go ahead and say that the whole package is all about umami—totally delicious, but also bordering on overwhelming.
rokurinsha.com

Ichiran (Shibuya)

This chain, with numerous locations throughout the city, definitely seems like one of the most fun to visit. As is standard and almost all ramen-ya, you start by ordering a ticket out of a machine—but things get funkier from there. First, you're asked to sit in a holding pen where you fill out a piece of paper allowing you to customize every last detail of your order: The strength of the dashi, the richness of the soup, the firmness of the noodles, the amount of garlic and green onion, and so on. An LED display on the wall shows you which seats at the counters are occupied, and you wait for a spot to open up.
In the dining area, each seat is separated by a divider, and your soup is pushed through a small opening from the kitchen, which is then shut so that you can eat in privacy. Apparently the concept is popular with women who want to feel less self-conscious about slurping down a big bowl of ramen. For me, it was the culinary equivalent of seven minutes in heaven—a rare opportunity to "dance like no one's watching," as the saying goes. Since I'd opted for a heavy hand of garlic and house hot sauce, the soup was intensely porky and peppery, with really excellent noodles cooked exactly as I'd requested. All in all, a gimmicky place with assertively ungimmicky food.
ichiran.co.jp

Mirakumon Takano

I didn't expect to have one of the best French meals of my life in Tokyo, but that's what happened at this elegant chef's table. (Fair warning: This isn't a restaurant with set hours and menus, but you can reserve a private dinner for up to eight people.) The "tyranny of the tasting menu" that's recently been the talk of the food world back home is nowhere to be seen in chef Takano's understated service—he does everything himself, from crafting the housemade jam from berries picked in Karuizawa, to laying down silverware and pouring the wine for guests throughout the meal. The food has all the hallmarks of classic French cooking with subtle Japanese touches here and there—seared foie gras came on a bed of uni, while a simple and bright dish of dried tomatoes arrived with a crown of caviar. I often find the chef's-table setup stifling, but here the pacing and nonintrusive style actually made the experience far more calming than a busy restaurant. Oh, and by the way: The Japanese Wagyu steak pictured above was probably the best single bite of the entire trip—Takano prepares it, rather brilliantly, on upright spits placed next to burning charcoal so that the marbled meat loses as little fat as possible during the cooking process.
Tel 03-3405-2338

Sakura Sakura

This place, which has a low-key izakaya-style vibe, produced one of the most accomplished meals I enjoyed in Tokyo. We went with a regular who had set up a tailored omakase tasting that may not reflect the regular menu, but I have to imagine the freshness of the ingredients and professionalism of the staff is reflected throughout the restaurant. There were a lot of impressive dishes here—a viscous shrimp-and-crab soup floating a cherry blossom leaf-wrapped satchel of glutinous rice, plus tremendous grilled fish—but the sashimi was the standout. The chef presented it in huge bowls full of crushed ice, garnished with different flowers for each diner that he cut right in front of us at the counter. I couldn't keep up with all the types of fish—one thing I learned in Japan is that people know and eat way more fish than we do, and there are different words for the same species depending where it comes from, its size, how old it is, and so on. But I do know that one them had been raised on olives to develop its flavor, which is the kind of detail that says everything about this joint.

Latest News

Now Trending

FIRST WE FEAST participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means FIRST WE FEAST gets paid commissions on purchases made through our links to retailer sites. Our editorial content is not influenced by any commissions we receive.